


Tomorrow's Tomorrow

by oakleaf_bearer



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Spoilers for The Magnus Archives Season 5, Time Travel, diverges after 169
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27561022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oakleaf_bearer/pseuds/oakleaf_bearer
Summary: "Jon?" Sasha said. "What's wrong?"He turned to look at them. "It's impossible for you to be here. It's not- you just can't."-tim and sasha go to season 5 bc apparently i like making my readers suffer
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 149
Kudos: 458





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw //  
> -fire   
> -canon character death

"Odds on Jon shouting at Martin while we are gone?"

"100%. He probably did it as soon as we left." Sasha lifted the lid off another box and rifled through it. "I still think Martin should tell someone."

"I think so too." Tim sighed. "But you know what Martin is like. He won't say anything. Jon could probably slap him and spit in his tea and Martin would still say 'he's just having a bad day'. I mean, Jon threatened to fire him on his first day."

"Yeah, I know. But I also know Jon, this isn't like him at all. He's always been a bit rough around the edges, but he's never been mean."

Tim pushed one of the boxes out of his way with his foot. It left behind a small cloud of dust. "This place is gross." He muttered. "I think it's just stress about the new job. Elias did just sort of dump him into it with almost no warning." 

"You've known him longer than I have." Sasha opened another box. This one was full of books. "Was he like this when he joined research?"

"I think so." Tim stepped over some scattered litter to join Sasha by her stack of boxes. "Not this bad though. Back in the day I reckon he would've jumped at the chance to investigate a creepy old storage unit. He was all over that sort of stuff."

"No handing it off to us?" She passed him a book with a shirtless man on the front, clutching a swooning woman. "You're right, all of this seems right up Jon's alley." 

"Don't talk about Jon's alley while handing me a tacky romance novel."

Sasha snorted. "Tim!"

"What?"

"He's our boss, you can't say things like that anymore!"

"We're out of the office, he won't find out. Besides, maybe removing that stick that he has up his alley will make him be nicer to Martin." 

She doubled over, clutching the edges off the box. "Tim, I swear to god, never speak again." 

He chuckled and tossed the book into the corner. Nudging her out of the way, he reached in and pulled out another. "Oh wow, our missing statement giver had diverse taste in books." He held up the cover to her. "Trashy romance novels and 'The Time Machine'."

"By HG Wells?" 

"Yeah. Those two things don't particularly go together in my head. I'm impressed." 

Sasha pushed past him towards the door. "What, people who read bodice rippers can't also appreciate classic sci-fi?" 

"I'm just saying, they have differing audiences." He flipped it open to a random page. 

"' Face this world. Learn its ways, watch it, be careful of too hasty guesses at its meaning. In the end you will find clues to it all.' Huh. Cool."

"What's that?" 

"Just a line from the book." He flipped the pages back to the front. 

She poked her head out into the corridor. "Do you smell smoke?" 

The pages landed on the opening, the first page of the whole damned book. It slipped from Tim's fingers. "Sash."

"I swear I can smell smoke."

"Sasha-"

"Can you seriously not smell that?"

"Sasha, it's a Leitner." 

Her head snapped towards him. He pointed to the open book. A dark, familiar bookplate sat on the front page, quietly gloating. 

"Shit." 

"We should call Jon, right?" 

She looked back out into the hallway. "Tim, I really do smell smoke."

He blinked. The faint smell of smoke was drifting down the corridor towards them. "Do you think it's the book?" Tim stepped over the boxes to join her by the entrance to the storage room. 

"Possibly. Let's just go. Is there anything you can wrap it in? It's probably not a good idea to touch it. If it turns out to be nothing, we can come back."

"Right." Tim pulled an old cardigan out of one of the boxes and gingerly wrapped it around the book. 

They set off down the corridor, back toward the entrance with the grumpy receptionist. The smell of smoke was stronger. Sasha tapped the door with the back of her hand, testing the temperature. 

"It seems clear."

She shoved it open. 

Tim felt his heart seize up. Where the stairway should've been was a long, blazing corridor. Flames licked their way up the walls and smoke filled the air, turning it thick and black. Tim grabbed Sasha's hand and started to pull her back towards the door that he had no memory of stepping through. 

It was gone. Only more corridor remained. 

"Fuck, shit, Sash are you okay?" Tim choked out past the smoke in his lungs. 

She coughed violently, ducking under a shower of sparks. "I'm okay. We need to go."

"Yeah," Tim blinked. The smoke was making his eyes water. "Yeah, come on." 

Hand in hand, they made their way down the corridor. Tim faintly remembered a fire safety talk from high school saying if you found yourself in a burning building you should crawl, but right as he tugged on Sasha's arm to suggest it, he saw a figure, unmoving, standing a short way away from them. 

"Sasha." Tim pointed with his free hand. 

She looked up, eyes widening as she took in the figure. "Hey! Hey, we need to go!" 

Faintly, Tim could hear the person speaking, the words impossible to make out, but the rumble of speech was recognisable even through the roar of flames. 

Sasha shifted forward again. 

"Hello?" Sasha shouted. "Can you hear us? We need to leave!" 

The figure didn't move, simply continued its strange monologue. From this distance, Tim was finally able to catch some of the words. 

"Limping and desperate, she turns to see her furniture in flames," The voice sounded familiar, but Tim couldn't put a name to it, not with sparks flying overhead. "The bookshelves full of memories that she can't quite place but knows are precious to her curl and float away as ash." There was another figure. Tim couldn't make it out through the smoke in his eyes, but they shook the speaker, hands gripping shoulders. "The photos on the wall of her family-"

"Jon!" 

Ah, there, a name. The speakers name. Tim grabbed hold of that name and pulled it close. Jon. Jon. 

Wait-

"-whose faces seem indistinct but she knows that-"

"Jon!"

The other person shook Jon again. Tim squinted and saw that they were tall, taller than Jon, and their hands wrapped fully around his much thinner shoulders. 

Martin?

Jon kept talking, painting the destruction of a families life, their home, their safety. Martin shook him some more, voice becoming frantic even as he choked on the swirling smoke around them. 

Then, desperate, Martin slapped Jon and the world snapped back into place. 

Sasha's hand tightened around Tim's. He squeezed back. 

Jon blinked at Martin for a moment, then followed the line of Martin's finger. "She's here." 

Another figure, a woman, stood at the end of the corridor, glaring at them. 

"Hello Jude."

"Fancy seeing you both here. To what do I owe the pleasure -the honour- of being graced by the great and powerful Archivist, harbinger of this new world, and his... valet?" 

Jon's hand found Martin's. 

"Naturally we came to see you." 

"What a treat." 

Sasha crumpled slightly, curling in on herself as a wave of coughing swept her. The sound drowned out Jon's words. Tim wrapped himself over her, pulling her down below the smoke level. He wanted to call out to Jon again, wanted to get him moving. 

"When you burned me. Marked me with... Did you know it would lead to all this?"

"You came all this way just to ask that?" 

Tim could feel the temperature in the room increase, building to a scorching, awful heat that singed the hair on his arms. He grabbed at Sasha's hand, trying to blink through the smoke to see her. She stared at him, mascara running down her cheeks from tears and her hands were scuffed from the debris on the floor. She reached for him, shuffling across the floor. 

"We have to get out of here!" She shouted over the flames. "Try to get their attention. They can have their little shouting match when we are outside." 

A beam creaked behind them. Sasha grabbed the back of Tim's shirt and hauled him forward right as it fell, showering them in sparks. He was distantly aware of Martin shouting something to Jon, warning him, but Tim's focus was taken up but trying to bat out the flames on Sasha's clothes.He lost track of the conversation for a moment until Jon's snapped "Enough." 

Tim had heard Jon angry plenty of times. Misfiled statements, long days, spilt tea, everything seemed to set Jon off. He was sharp, prickly, and quick to irritate. This anger seemed devoid of that edge. In its space was an exhaustion, deep enough that it seemed to fill Jon's entire being. 

Tim realised distantly that the woman was scared. For all her posturing, she was terrified of Jon. 

Tim could see why. 

Years ago, Danny had gotten really into art galleries, and he'd dragged Tim around some of his favourites. Tim hadn't minded, it was one of Danny's more tame obsessions, but it has left him with a healthy respect of old statues. The craftsmanship of some of them still stuck with him. He remembered spending hours gazing at the blocks of marble as Danny chartered away about the artists, staring at the uncanny realism of the stone faces. 

Jon reminded him of one of those statues. 

He was unmoving, even as the woman shook and begged him for another chance, he just stared at her, a single point of horrifying calm in a sea of chaos, undeterred by the roiling, scorching inferno surrounding them. As the woman backed away from him, hands up in supplication, he simply stared, Watching her desperation grow until it consumed her, tearing her apart, scattering her existence like ashes in the wind.

Jon staggered, catching onto Martin. 

"It's over." He said. "She's gone." 

Martin coughed. "The fires are still here. Doesn't look like much has changed." 

"No. I suppose not."

Martin hugged himself. "Let's just get out of here." 

Tim heard the click of a tape recorder. Jon set off down the corridor, not even glancing at the scattered remains. Martin followed close behind him, one hand gripping the sleeve of Jon's jacket.

Tim pulled Sasha up, dragging her behind him as he hurried to keep up with Jon. The corridors felts endless, but they finally reached a door to a staircase. Jon took the stairs down quickly, practically bounding down them. Eventually, they reached the bottom of the staircase and Jon wrenched open the door into the lobby. He marched to the front door, throwing it open. Martin immediately doubled over, coughing violently as he tried to clear his lungs. Jon kept walking, heading further across the scorched car park. 

Tim leant heavily against the wall, blinking. He could smell the smoke clinging to him, making his eyes water. Sasha didn't seem much better. She crouched, hugging her knees against her chest. Mumbling vague reassurances, Tim reached out to pat her shoulder. She glanced up at him, giving him a weak smile. 

"Martin. We need to go." 

Glancing up, Tim saw Jon tugging Martin's shoulder, guiding him away from the building. 

"I just need a moment." Martin waved him away. 

"It's not safe."

"We are out of the building. Let's just take a minute, we can keep going in a minute."

Jon tugged weakly on Martin's bag. 

"Jon, wait." Martin pulled him to a stop. "What's got into you?"

Jon still didn't look at them. "Martin," He put a hand over Martin's where it was gripping his jacket. "I'm sorry. I don't know how long they've been following us, I only noticed after Jude." 

"What are you talking about? Who?" 

Finally, Jon's eyes met Tim's. 

Tim could remember the first time he'd met Jon. He'd shaken his hand, showed him to his new desk, offered to introduce him around the office. Tim had even taken him to lunch. 'My treat,' he'd said. 'for your first day.' He remembered thinking Jon was cute in a rugged, scruffy sort of way. He'd spent most of their lunch break staring at a scar on Jon's chin, tiny and faded. He'd wanted to ask about it, to find out what had happened. 

That scar was buried now under a smattering of round pockmarks that worked their way across Jon's face and down his neck, where they intersected a straight, almost clinical gash across his jugular. Tim wanted to vomit. Something awful had happened to Jon and that made him angry. First Danny, now Jon. Tim's ability to protect people was clearly lacking. 

But Tim had seen Jon only a few hours ago and he'd been clear of scars. Except that tiny faded one on his chin. 

Martin groaned. "Oh for fucks sake." 

Sasha let out a small, disbelieving laugh. "Not like you, Martin." 

He turned a furious glare on her. "Don't do that." 

Sasha blinked. "What?"

"Don't pretend you know me." He spat. "Don't you dare pretend that we are friends." 

Tim gaped at him. "Don't talk to Sasha like that! What's gotten into you?" 

Martin's arm twitched and for a moment Tim thought he was going to hit him. "Why can't you just drop it? Haven't you done enough to them?" He turned to Jon. "How did they even get here? I would've thought that the Stranger wouldn't have been able to go into a domain of the Desolation."

Jon looked between them, brow furrowed. "I suppose... the fear of loss could help the Stranger manifest. But they- this feels different."

"Different how?" Jon stayed silent, staring at Sasha with his wide, horribly green eyes. "Jon, how is this different?" 

"Oh, I, uh, I don't know." Jon blinked in surprise. He shook his head like he was trying to dislodge a thought. "I have no idea."

"What?" Martin loomed over them. "What have you done to Jon?" 

"We haven't done anything!" Sasha raised her hands. 

"What is going on?" Tim knew he was shouting but he didn't care. "Jon. Where the hell are we? What happened to you? Please, Jon, answer the question." 

Jon just stared at him as if he was seeing past Tim. His eyes were unfocused even as Tim waved a hand in front of his face. 

Martin grabbed Tim's wrist. "Don't. Don't you dare."

"Martin, let go of me." Tim forced himself to stay calm. Martin just tightened his grip. 

"Martin," Sasha put a hand on his arm. "Let him go."

Martin stared at her. For a moment, Tim saw between the cracks of his anger and into something far deeper, far more buried. He looked sad. Tim had seen Martin sad plenty of times; between Jon and his mother and work, Martin seemed in a constant state of concealed melancholy. Then Martin's face twisted and he shoved Tim's hand away. 

"You don't even look like her." 

"What?" 

"Sasha. You don't look like her." 

"Martin, what are you talking about?" 

He scoffed. "See, that right there, don't do that. You don't know me, no matter what memories you've stolen. You can pretend all you like but she's dead and you're just a cheap copy." He pointed at Tim. "You don't look like him either. He didn't look like this for a long time before he died."

"I died?!" Tim asked incredulously. 

"Oh, what, did you forget that? I guess this is your idea of a joke, hmm? He stopped your ritual so you stole his face?" Martin was shouting now. "Well guess what, it's not working. The world has already ended, nothing you do can be worse than that. And if you want to parade around wearing our friends faces, then be my guest. Just don't pretend to actually be them or I swear to god- Jon, what are you doing?" 

Jon had quietly reached for the zip on Martin's bag. He put a hand on Martin's shoulder to stop him from turning, then reached into the bag and pulled out a tape recorder and a tape. 

"Which one is that?" Martin asked. 

Jon didn't answer. He slipped the tape into the machine and clicked play. 

_"Careful."_

_"Shh."_

Then, the sound of a door opening. 

_"Surprise!"_

_"Jesus!"_

_"Happy birthday, boss!"_ Tim's voice came out of the tinny speakers.

"Is that from your birthday party?" Tim asked over the sounds of Jon's recorded panic.

Jon just stared up at him, silent. 

_"Sorry, sorry, Tim wanted to surprise you-"_

"Why do you have this? I thought I lost it." Tim shook his head. 

"Please stop talking." Martin begged. 

_"Plus, it was kinda fun giving you a heart attack."_

"God, I hate the way my voice sounds on tape." Sasha let out a nervous chuckle. 

Martin flinched like he'd been shot. "Oh my god..."

_"He's way to jumpy as it is, we were worried he might damage himself."_

"Jon, it can't actually be them, can it?" Martin stared at him. "How could it be them?" 

Jon shook his head, frowning. 

_"Liar."_

_"Well thank you anyway. This is all very touching."_

Tim glanced at Sasha. She shrugged. 

_"We just thought you could use a chance to unwind."_

_"I suppose it... couldn't hurt."_

The sound of knocking, and then Elias' voice. 

_"Knock knock."_

Martin snatched the tape recorder and hit stop. He wheeled away from them, trudging down the hill. Jon watched him go. 

"Jon?" Sasha said. "What's wrong?" 

He turned to look at them. "It's impossible for you to be here. It's not- you just can't."

"Why?" Sasha asked plaintively. 

"Because you died!" Martin shouted, spinning back around. "You died. You can't be here because the world ended and you both died and-"

Jon put a hand on Martin's shoulder. "Martin-"

"No, don't tell me to calm down, because I just got dragged through a burning building, watched you kill someone, and now our friends are back from the dead, so no, I will not calm down." 

"I know. I know. I'm sorry."

Martin scoffed and threw up his hands, "How is this even possible?" 

"I'm not certain. I need a bit more time to think, this has all happened too quickly, it's confusing." 

"Right." Martin took a deep breath. "Right. Let's find somewhere to sit." He set off back down the hill again. Jon sighed heavily and went to follow him. Sasha grabbed his arm. 

"Wait."

Jon stared at her expectantly, green eyes full of a strange sort of melancholy. 

"That woman in there. You killed her, didn't you?" 

Jon smiled sadly. "I'm afraid she had it coming."

He slipped out of Sasha's grip and followed after Martin. 

Sasha stared at Tim. From the look on her face, she was feeling the same dizzying bafflement that he was. How much time had passed since they had read the Leitner and been sent to this strange place? An hour? Two? Tim's had span when he tried to think. 

He shook his head and looked down the hill to where Jon had caught up to Martin. 

"I know we should be focusing on other things right now, but I cannot stop thinking about it," Tim said. "Are Jon and Martin a thing?" 


	2. Chapter 2

"Is this a good place?"

"Yes. It'll be quiet here." Jon shucked off his bag and dumped it on the floor. Martin did the same, sitting down on a rock nearby, tugging Jon down next to him. 

Martin leant close to Jon. "I'm sorry I shouted."

"It's alright, you were going through a lot. I'm sorry I took us through Jude's domain."

Martin sighed. "No, you were right, you needed to do that." He huffed a small, tired laugh. "What's the point of being The Archivist if you can't throw your weight around, you know?" 

"Yes..." Jon said slowly. "Exactly."

"What she did to you, that was awful. I'm sorry you had to be near her again." 

"What did she do to you?" Tim asked. Ever the diplomat. Sasha slapped at his arm lightly. 

Jon glanced over at them and slowly held up his right hand. 

A gruesome, twisted scar stretched across his palm and around his fingers. The skin warped as a thick burn mark worked its way across his hand, rippling the skin there. 

"Jesus Christ." Tim leant back. Sasha felt inclined to agree. 

"How did this happen, Jon?" 

"I made a deal." He shrugged. "My fault for not checking the cost." 

"Don't say that." Martin admonished. "It wasn't your fault. None of it was." 

"You have to admit that I did sort of walk into it."

"You wanted answers and no one was giving them. If Elias had simply told you what was happening instead of being awful then we could've worked this out as a team." 

"Elias?" Sasha asked. "What did he do?" 

"Did he finally lean into the 'creepy-bureaucrat vibe?" Tim grinned. "Tell HR go stuff it? Start stealing people lunches?" He laughed. 

Jon stayed silent, staring off at the horizon, dark eyes full of a quiet anger. Sasha followed his gaze. In the distance, peering over the skyline of the dreadful wasteland they found themselves in, was a tower. She didn't recognise it as any notable landmark, but it looked strangely familiar, like she'd seen it out the corner of her eye. 

"What is that?"

"The Panopticon. His seat of power here."

"Panopticon? Like in Millbank Prison?" Tim sat up, smile gone. 

"Exactly." Jon nodded, still frowning. "Though I doubt Smirke had this in mind for his design."

"But that's ruined. We wouldn't be able to see it, there's too much of London in the way."

"There's not much of London anymore. Not in any way you would recognise. I'm afraid it was just as much of a casualty as the rest of this place." 

Sasha stared at him. Tim had known Jon longer than she had, but they were still friends. She thought she could recognise his various ticks and quirks quite well, but this was new. Jon overworked, driving himself to exhaustion more often than not. Tim dragging him out of their little block of desks back in Research had become a bit of a tradition. After joining the archives she'd seen a different side to him. Stress of the job, that was her theory. The prospect of organising the archives pushed him to obsession, working overtime like it was his regular hours. He was tired constantly. 

This was more than that. This wasn't just stress from work. This was acceptance, the acknowledgment that something had happened that Jon thought was deserved only if it happened to him. She'd seen it only once before after she'd asked why he disliked spiders so much. Whatever had happened to Jon, he blamed himself. No amount of reassurance from Martin (Tim was right, that was strange) could assuage that guilt. Something had caught Jon in its web and he had blamed himself for walking into it. 

"Jon..." Sasha said slowly. "What happened?" 

He smiled humourlessly. "Poke the bear with a stick and it'll bite. Mess with the manifestations of terror..." He spread his hands, gesturing to the wasteland around them. "Sometimes you end up becoming one." 

"You understand that that isn't an answer, right?" Tim stared at him. "Like, that's the furthest thing from an actual answer." 

"He knows." Martin gently punched Jon's arm, smiling fondly. "He's doing it on purpose."

Tim raised his eyebrows, but stayed silent about the way that Jon leant against Martin. 

"There isn't really a simple explanation. I'll try to keep it as brief as I can but I'm afraid it is somewhat complex." He took a deep breath. "There are beings, entities that exist next to our own reality. They are the embodiment of primal fears. There's 15 different ones, but they all overlap substantially. One bleeds into the next. Something like the Extinction could look a lot like the End until you get up close." 

"You're saying that there's fear gods controlling the world?" Tim gaped. 

"They aren't gods, no matter what their followers might think. They just exist, they just _are_. Our reality brushes against theirs just enough for echoes to come through. Usually. Nowadays-" He looked up at the sky. "Nowadays they're here to stay."

"So this is a different reality?" 

"Oh no. This is very much still our world." Jon turned his dark gaze onto Sasha. "We haven't gone anywhere. They just closed the gap." 

_Don't ask,_ her mind screamed. _Don't you dare ask._ "How?" 

Jon gave her a wry smile. "That would be my fault."

"No. No it's not." Martin looked furious. 

"Martin, I read the statement, I followed all of the breadcrumbs and they lead me to-"

"Elias tricked you. He tricked all of us. You didn't know what was going to happen when you read that statement, you didn't know he wanted you to start questioning everything. He intentionally put you on a path that would lead to this, so do not say that this is your fault." Martin ended his tirade by grabbing Jon's free hand and giving it a firm squeeze. Jon smiled at him, squeezing back. 

"How did Elias trick you?" Tim asked, frowning. "Was he seriously evil this whole time?"

"Very much so." Jon said.

"Did he kill us?" Tim leant forward. 

"I was going to ask about that. You said we died, but how?"

Jon glanced at Martin, who sighed. "Elias didn't kill you. He did kill Gertrude, that's a different story. Sasha, you were eaten and replaced by one of the Not!Them. Do you remember Amy Patel's statement, with the guy who ate all those notebooks?" 

She shuddered. That statement had weirded her out when she'd read it. "Yeah. Graham Folger, right?"

"Right. Well, the thing that got Graham Folger, one of those got you." Martin ran a thumb along the back of Jon's hand as he spoke. 

"Wait, everyone except Amy Patel forgot what he looked like. Did you forget me?"

"I wish I could tell you no, but we did. I didn't recognise you when you first showed up. Being honest, it still doesn't make sense in my head."

"And that's part of one of those entities?"

Jon nodded. "The Stranger. Fear of the unknown. It manifests as things that are not quite human or that don't feel right. Mannequins, wax models, that sort of thing." 

"Clowns?" Tim said, voice hard.

"Sometimes. The Circus of the Other, they were called."

"So you know then? You know what happened to Danny?"

Jon looked at him. "You avenged him."

"Did it hurt them?"

He smiled sadly. "Every one of them. And yourself."

Tim nodded slowly, processing. He'd explained what had happened to Danny to her one night after showing up at her flat drunk. Danny's birthday, he'd said, but no Danny. She was pretty sure he'd drunk enough for the both of them by the time he passed out on her sofa. 

"So, the Stranger, that's one of them. There are 15?" 

"Yes. Jude, that woman, she was part of the Desolation. Fear of loss. It manifests as fire a lot of the time." He pointed upward, at where the sky was staring down at them. "That's the one you should really worry about. The Eye. Beholding. Fear of being known, of being seen. Your secrets being ripped out of you and examined. That," He said. "is the one I serve."

"You?" Tim stared at him, wary. "Why do you serve one of them?"

"Part of the whole 'ending the world'. The Institute serves the Eye, and so the Archivist is one of its vessels. It gives me certain abilities. I can Know anything, make someone tell me something. It's... unpleasant." 

"You have superpowers. Boss, how long have you had super powers?" 

"It's hard to say? A little while. Time is a very strange thing nowadays. Speaking of, may I see that book?" He held out his hand. 

Tim looked at him. "Huh?"

"The Leitner. The one that bought you here."

"Oh shit yeah." Tim pulled it out of his bag and handed it to Jon, still wrapped in the cardigan. Jon carefully unwrapped it, examining the front cover. 

"A bit on the nose, isn't it?" Martin said, peering over his shoulder. 

"They've never been one for subtlety."

"Which of the entities does it belong to?"

"That's a tricky question." Jon said, holding it up to the light. "Time comes under several of them. The Vast, fear of too much space and our own insignificance, that's a strong contender. Maybe the Spiral? That's the fear of everything you know being wrong. Even the Lonely touches on time. And the Extinction, though I don't think it applies here."

"Doesn't it? Catastrophic change? End of the world? Seems exactly like the Extinction's thing." 

"Hmm, I suppose you're right."

"So we've definitely travelled through time, right? Like, 100%."

"It would appear so. I don't think any of this is an illusion on our part, and I assure you we are very real."

"So how do we get back."

"I have a few ideas. I wanted to avoid it, but it seems it might be our only option. There is a place where logic runs a little thin. We should be able to go back from there." 

"Where?"

He smiled thinly. "Hilltop Road. It's a bit of a walk, so we best get going. I can explain more on the way." 

-

"Sooo..." Tim bumped against Jon's shoulder. "Martin, huh?"

"What?"

"No no, it's just interesting. Didn't think you were the type." 

Jon sighed. "Tim-"

"Boss-employee relationships don't really strike me as your usual thing."

"That's not-"

"Although I do see the appeal, Martin is very-"

"I love him!" Jon's voice was a little too loud. Ahead of them, Martin and Sasha glanced back. He waved them away and they went back to talking to each other. 

Tim blinked at Jon. "Really?"

"Yes. It's been a long few years and I had to start being honest with myself at some point."

"But you hate him." 

"I did once, maybe. It was more that I saw him as an anomaly. He was a presence that I hadn't accounted for. I never factored in that Elias might assign me a third assistant without telling me, and then that frustration manifested as hatred towards Martin." He shook his head. "Over time, I couldn't be angry at him anymore. So much happened that I had to make a choice; despise Martin or let him help me. It got much worse before it got better." 

"And now you're dating?"

Jon smiled fondly. "I can hardly believe it myself. I don't know how I got this lucky." 

"Imagine telling you from my time that."

Jon laughed. "I think he'd probably die. God knows Martin would likely faint." 

"He really was crushing hard wasn't he?"

"I'm honestly surprised I missed it." 

"You didn't catch me flirting with you for years in Research. No offence Jon, but you are one of the most oblivious people I have ever met."

He chuckled. "Martin says that sometimes too." 

-

"Is Jon nice?"

Martin missed a step. "What?" 

Sasha looked at him carefully. "Is he good to you?"

"Jon? Yeah, he's lovely. Why do you ask?"

"He hasn't always been lovely."

Martin took a deep breath. "No he hasn't. But he's gotten better. And he's apologised. Extensively."

"I just don't want him to fall back into old habits. Dating your boss is a risky thing."

"He's not really my boss anymore."

"You know what I mean. There was a power dynamic there, he was in a position over you."

"Sasha, I appreciate it, but I promise you that's not what this is. He was a prick but he's changed. Funny how trauma can do that to a person." 

There was a shout from behind them. They turned to see Tim grinning at Jon, who waved for them to keep walking. 

Sasha glanced at Martin, who shrugged. "I love him. And I genuinely believe he loves me too. Jon's a terrible liar, I doubt he'd be able to hold up a facade this well. Besides, he did sort of drag me out of a realm designed to be alone in." 

"Really?"

"Jon's not the only one who's close to one of the Entities. The Lonely very nearly had me." 

"I'm sorry." 

He shrugged. "It could've been worse. Jon came and got me almost immediately, but it still lingered."

"Martin!" Jon called from somewhere behind them. They turned to see Jon jogging towards them, Tim on his heel. 

"What's up?"

He came up level with them, taking a moment to catch his breath. "I thought you might appreciate some warning."

"Of what? What's coming?" Sasha frowned. Somewhere, a door opened. 

Jon grinned. "An old friend. Hello Helen." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've already written explanations of the entities twice before for fics and it's still super hard 
> 
> i wrote the majority of this while sitting in my pyjamas avoiding writing my essay, so i might email this to my lecturers instead and say 'i know it's not an analysis of the necessity of archaeology of a literate society, but it's sasha pov!' 
> 
> i also got distracted halfway through bc i was looking at videos of nail art
> 
> i never know if people actually read my notes, so if you've read this then comment like it's 2014 and your favourite destiel fic just updated


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smooches for the archivist!! let the archivist smooch!!

"Helen, this really isn't a good time." Martin groaned. 

"What's the matter, Martin? Worried I might find out about your special guests?" Helen leant on her door. "How long were you planning to hide that little nugget of information, hmm?" 

"We weren't hiding them, they only just showed up." Jon stepped in front of Tim and Sasha. "They aren't part of this."

"Actually, Archivist, I think they are. I mean, they're here, aren't they? Doesn't that make them guests to your little soirée?"

"Leave them out of this, Helen." Martin warned. 

"Hey Jon," Tim stage whispered. "What the fuck is happening?"

"Oh has he not been clear? This world is his oyster! His playhouse! And you, my friends, are two very intriguing, quite dead additions to our number. Have you been playing around with the End, Archivist?" Helen's laugh was grating in Jon's ears. 

"Leave. This has nothing to do with you."

"And miss the show of the century? I think not. I'm still waiting for the big twist. You've got some star players here, some real fan favourites, but how are you going to twist the narrative? Playing out the same old story is going to get boring at some point." She stepped towards him, her too long legs closing the gap between them. "How are you going to shake things up?"

She seemed excited. It made Jon sick to his stomach. 

But she had a point. Even if he managed to get them home, they were still going to walk into the traps laid out for them. No matter how much he warned them, how much he explained, Elias- no, Magnus would still see it coming. He'd just shift things about, change the outcomes again. Jon's head swam with the possibility that Elias might just get rid of his past self and start again from scratch. Hell, being here might could as a dozen marks. Maybe Elias would just kill him and promote Sasha like he should've from the start, and then finalise his plans infinitely faster, without the cumbersome burden of actually having to do work. Same story, different protagonist. As much as Jon hated to admit it, Helen was right. 

"Oh for goodness sake," Martin's voice cut through Jon's spiralling. He blinked and glanced up at his boyfriend. "What are you even doing here, Helen?"

She laughed. Jon's knees felt like they might give out. "Just dropping by. It's been a while." She waved one horrifying hand. "Hello!"

Tim awkwardly waved. Sasha grabbed his hand to stop him. 

"Tim!" She hissed. 

"What? What's the worst that could happen?"

Martin scoffed. "Shes an embodiment of madness that occasionally eats people." 

Tim blinked and slowly lowered his hand. 

"So rude, Martin. I only eat people who go into my doors. And not all of them. All of you are fine, aren't you? You've been inside my corridors and come out kicking." 

"All of this sounds like the worst euphemism." Tim said nervously. 

"Flirt." Helen gave him an exaggerated wink. 

"Stop it." Jon grimaced. 

"Oh come off it, as if the whole apocalypse hasn't seen you two lovebirds making eyes at each other across the wasteland. Let someone else have some fun for once."

Martin giggled. Jon glared up at him. 

"What? She has a point!" Martin grinned, clearly not repentant. 

"That doesn't mean you have to encourage her!"

"Shall I stop making eyes at you while I'm at it?" 

"I didn't say that." 

Helens chuckle pulled him back to the moment. Jon turned to glare at her.

"Did you come here with a purpose or just to be inconvenient?" 

"Ouch! Look, I'll leave you to," She waved a hand at them. "Whatever this is. It was fun catching up! We should make this regular. My place next? I'm happy to host." 

"Leave." 

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Meanie. Toodle-oo." Her door shut behind her, disappearing like it had never been there. 

Jon let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. Helen was shaping up to be a real inconvenience. More than usual. 

"Soo," Tim clapped his hands. "That was weird."

"Who was that?" Sasha asked. Ever curious. Jon thought she probably would've made an excellent archivist. 

"That was Helen. Neither of you have met the Distortion yet, but you'll meet them first as Michael. I recommend staying away from them." Jon grimaced. "We should get going. Hilltop Road isn't getting any closer and there's a lot of apocalypse between here and there."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask about that. How far is this Hilltop Road?" 

Martin shook his head. "Don't ask him to define time. Hell just say something like 'Time is uncountable here'." Martin did a poor imitation of Jon's voice. 

"That's not what I sound like." 

"It sort of is."

"Is not."

"Oh my god, you're adorable. Sasha, aren't they adorable." 

Jon turned to glare at Tim. 

"They are." She was grinning at them, ignoring Jon's glare. 

He sighed, annoyed. "We've dawdled enough. We need to keep moving." 

He set off across the wasteland, ignoring the way the others laughed behind him. He was still technically, at least from their perspective, their boss, he needed to maintain at least some air of dignity despite their insistence on his 'adorableness'. True, storming off like a petulant child wasn't the most constructive way of maintaining his image, but it was the best he could do given the circumstances. He could at least pretend to be professional. 

Martin shattered that as he jogged to catch up with Jon, slipping one arm through the crook of Jon's elbow. "Grumpy."

"Am not." He grumbled. 

"Don't worry, they won't hold it against you. I'd almost forgotten what you used to be like."

"Please, I'm not that bad anymore."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, you're nowhere near that bad, but you've clammed up again. Retreated into your shell. Tell me what's up."

Jon sighed. "What happens when we get them home? They'll still have to deal with Elias. Who's to say that he won't just use what they've seen against them?"

"You really think he'd know?"

"Martin, it's Elias. He knows everything. He's had far longer than I have to practice. No matter what I do to mask their knowledge, I can't guarantee that he won't see through it. Besides, they still have to worry about Prentiss, and Nikola, and the thousands other things that have tried to kill us over the years. I can't save them."

"Jon, you're spiralling again. Come one." Martin wrapped one large, warm hand around Jon's. "We'll work something out."

"Hmm." Jon wasn't convinced. Elias had a two hundred year head-start. He'd had time to plan for every eventuality, but had he ever considered time travel? It was hardly the most academic proposal, certainly not something Jon would've ever thought of. 

A kiss to the back of his hand startled him out of his thoughts. 

"You were doing it again." Martin smiled down at him. 

"Sorry."

"No, you're okay. No need to apologise." Martin glanced over his shoulder at the others. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Does it bother you? Them knowing. About us I mean."

"Should it? Does their opinion affect our relationship in any way?"

"It's just- Sasha asked if we were, you know, healthy. I think she's concerned because you were my boss."

"Tim was the same. No, it doesn't bother me, but I appreciate their concern. It's nice to know that there's at least some people looking out for us."

Martin hummed. "It must be weird for them. We weren't exactly the most compatible back then."

"Oh god, I hadn't thought of that. I was such a prick to you."

"Ehh, you got better."

Jon paused. Hilltop Road could wait a second longer. "Do you want to really distress them?" 

"Oh?" Martin raised an eyebrow. "What have you got in mind?" 

"Kiss me." 

Martin gasped, scandalised. "Mr Sims! You are my employer! Whatever will the papers think?" 

Jon grinned, lovesick. "Damn the papers. Kiss me."

"If you insist." Martin didn't seem too put upon. He leant down, catching Jon's mouth in a gentle kiss. It was short, sweet, and dazzlingly perfect, even with Tim's overtures of exaggerated gagging behind them. 

Jon smiled. From this close, he couldn't see the ever watchful sky or the distant domains on the horizon. Only Martin, with his beautiful curls tumbling down his forehead, his brilliant eyes full of laughter, his mouth with his perfect lips. 

"I love you. I can't think of anyone I'd rather spend the apocalypse with."

Martin laughed. "Wow, thanks, high praise." 

"I can take it back if you like." 

"Don't you dare." Martin ducked down to kiss him again, longer and slower this time.

Jon thought that maybe the trip to Hilltop Road wouldn't be so bad. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was an absolute bitch to write 
> 
> also, the temptation to eat an entire packet of biscuits in one sitting is so strong rn

**Author's Note:**

> i know i just finished a time travel fic but you guys chose that you wanted this 
> 
> come find me [on insta](https://www.instagram.com/statement_boo_gins/) or [on tumblr](https://oakleaf--bearer.tumblr.com/), i take prompts on both 
> 
> comments and kudos keep me writing, pls leave some!
> 
> title is from Alice by The Mechanisms


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